


Of all the Scents a Witcher can Smell

by lilsamarooo



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: AND SWEET, Cuddling & Snuggling, FOREHEAD!! KISSES!!, Forehead Kisses, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Insecure Jaskier | Dandelion, I’m still mad at him for that, Light Angst, M/M, No beta we die like my fish after my dad fed it Cheerios, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Who feeds a fish Cheerios, Yes you heard me correctly, it’s so soft, like please set up a dentist appointment after reading this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:08:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27331699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilsamarooo/pseuds/lilsamarooo
Summary: Geralt smells lots of emotions. Some of them smell nice, some smell like a horse’s ass (no offense, Roach). What does he do when his bard has his performance after the Djinn Incident coming up, and all he can smell is fear?orJaskier gets anxious before his performance and goes through all the what if scenarios his mind can come up with. Geralt pulls him out of his head before he paces so much that the floor wears out.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 20
Kudos: 161





	Of all the Scents a Witcher can Smell

**Author's Note:**

> We’re just gonna collectively forget that Geralt slept with Yennefer for the duration of this fic. Enjoy.

❧

“I don’t think I can do this.”

“Hm?” Geralt looked up from where he was cleaning his chest plate on the edge of the dusty, stained bed they’d been able to buy for the night. “Do what?”

Setting his lute against the wall, Jaskier wrapped his arms tightly around his stomach and paced around their cramped room. “Perform,” he said, voice tight with some unidentifiable emotion.

The bard often felt many emotions Geralt had trouble identifying; sour scents, sweet, sugary scents, spicy, throat-searing scents, and more often than not, calming floral scents. These smells all mixed together in varying amounts and combinations, making Geralt’s head spin and his too-slow heart try to catch up to his human companion’s own.

After they’d left the whole Djinn Debacle behind a week ago, the only scents he’d been able to smell on Jaskier were the smell of wet soil after a rainstorm and the sharp, sour bite of a lemon. Two scents Geralt was very familiar with while taking contracts on the Path.

Geralt smelled sadness on a new widow asking him to avenge her late husband’s death. Geralt smelled sadness on a scrawny peasant child, pulling on his sleeve and begging him to rescue their papa from the beast that stole him away in the night, the look in their eyes betraying the hope their voices held when they ask if he could still be alive.

Fear was the scent that wafted off of villagers as he walked by, seeping deep into his nostrils and making his head pound and ache. Fear was the smell Geralt hated the most.

So why did Jaskier smell of it so strongly?

“What are you talking about, Jask? You love to perform.” Laying his half-cleaned chest plate on top of the rest of his armor, Geralt stood and walked over to the bard, stopping his frantic pacing with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Cornflower blues darted from place to place, avoiding meeting Geralt’s own amber eyes flashing in the candlelight. “I- I _do,_ it’s just… this is my first time singing a whole set since the djinn, so what if-” Jaskier cut himself off with a full body shudder. “-what if my throat starts bleeding again? O-or what if my voice gives out in the middle of my performance? Or-”

“Jaskier,” Geralt interrupts softly, guiding the rambling bard to sit on the edge of the bed, both of them ignoring the sound of what must be a rat scurrying around underneath it. Guilt crashed over his heart in powerful waves and the Witcher brought a hand up to cup the side of his bard’s face. Teary eyes looked up through wet lashes in surprise, Jaskier’s own hand reaching up to cover Geralt’s.

“What if I mess it all up? All I do is mess things up,” the bard whispered, a shaky sigh following the hushed words. “I messed up with the djinn-”

“No.” Geralt shook his head firmly, tilting Jaskier’s chin up so he could meet his eyes. “ _I_ messed up, Jask, that wasn’t your fault. I never meant for you to get hurt, and… I didn’t mean what I said either. About your singing.”

A small, wobbly smile appeared on Jaskier’s face and he gave a weak laugh, letting his head fall onto Geralt’s chest with a quiet _thump._ “So you _do_ like my singing!” he mumbled, exhaustion from the past week finally catching up to him.

Smiling softly, Geralt hummed in agreement and shifted the two of them so they were laying side by side under the matted furs the inn had provided. Jaskier’s body felt warm and firm against his, and he curled an arm protectively around the musician.

Jaskier stirred in his arms from the movement and frowned slightly. “I… I still need to perform,” he said sleepily, voice slurring and soft. “ I promised the innkeeper-”

“Don’t worry about that.” Geralt hushed the bard and tucked his head under the Witcher’s chin, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips as chestnut locks tickled his neck. “I’ll handle the innkeeper. Rest now, Jask.”

Geralt waited until the only noises coming from Jaskier were soft, sleepy snuffles and murmurs before pressing a gentle kiss onto the bard’s forehead.

A deep inhale with his nose pressed into soft, messy hair brought forth a medley of scents, but the ones that stood out brought a grin to his face.

The sweet smell of honeysuckle, rose, and orange rinds.

The smell of love.

❧

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos + comments appreciated :)


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